A Very Dirty Wedding(39)

"Non-fucking-stop." I slide my hands down her arms, my chest pressed up against her back, my hard cock against her flesh, then run them over her breasts, and down her sides to grip her ass. Her skirt is bunched up around her waist, and she moans as she presses against me. "And you've been thinking about me. Tell me you have."

"Yes." She says it so softly I can barely hear it.

"Spread your legs," I order, and she complies. I'm not playing anymore. I press the tip of my cock against her entrance. "Tell me again. Have you been thinking about the last time I fucked you?"

"Yes," she whispers. I guide my cock inside her, gentle despite the fact that she's bent over her father's desk, her wet pussy practically begging for me to slide into her in one thrust. She's so fucking tight I'm surprised she can take me. But she does, her slickness making it easy for me to slip inside. She pushes her hips against me, letting out a groan under her breath, primal-sounding.

I thrust inside her slowly, my hands on her hips. "You thought of me while you touched yourself?"

"Yes," she says softly. "Yes. Yes."

"Touch yourself now," I order, and she does, rubbing her clit with her fingers. I reach up with one hand and tug at the strap of her dress. It doesn't come loose, so I yank harder, ripping the fabric off her shoulder and sliding my hand under her bra to cup. "Did you come thinking about me inside you?"

She's making this little half-moan, half-grunting sound as she touches herself. Her pussy so flooded with wetness that I can't keep myself from thrusting into her harder and harder.

Her grip on the desk slips, and papers go flying off in every direction, important papers, her father's work I'm sure. I'm bending the Senator's uptight daughter over his desk and scattering his papers everywhere.

"Did you think about my cock sliding in and out of your tight little pussy?" I ask.

"Yes," she pants, her hand moving frantically between her thighs. Her pussy tightens around me and I know she's close. "Fuck. Caulter...Yes."

"You wanted this hard cock inside you," I say, my grip on her hips harder. I'm so close to exploding. "You wanted this fucking cock inside you, filling you up with my hot cum. Say it."

"Yes, yes," she moans.

"Say it now."

"Oh my God," she gasps. She loses her grip on the edge of the desk and something else falls to the ground with a thud, but I don't give a shit about it. "I'm going to..."

"Fuck, Kate, I'm going to come," I warn, before I do, slamming my cock inside her with one final thrust and gripping her hips as I pull her against me. Her moan is loud in the stillness of the house, and when she comes, her muscles tighten around my cock, milking every last ounce of cum from me.

I'm breathing heavily, my fingers pressing into her flesh for what seems like an eternity before I can even think straight. When I finally pull out of her, I roll off the condom and look around for the trash.

"Don't you dare," she hisses at me.

"What?"

"Don't throw that away in here," she says, looking around. "Shit. I think we broke this." She pulls her dress down and squats to the floor to pick up a letter tray, clearly cracked along the edge.

I grab tissues from the desk to wrap the condom before getting my jeans. "So much for an orgasm helping you with your uptight-ness."

She's busily shoving papers back where they go, while I'm slipping my shirt back over my head. "Is that what you were trying to do?" she asks, placing the letter tray back on the desk while she mumbles something about finding glue. "I didn't know fucking me would magically transform me. It sure didn't change you into Prince Charming."

"Would you be Cinderella in this scenario?" I ask. "Because I doubt Cinderella was a bitch." She picks up a book from the desk and throws it, and it grazes my arm. "What, are you twelve?"

"You called me a bitch," she says, her eyes flashing. "What the hell do you expect?"

"I did not call you a bitch." I set the book back in its place on the desk. "I said I doubted Cinderella was one."

"Implying that I am."

"Imply nothing," I say. "Guilty conscience?"

"You're the most irritating person I've ever met." Her ass is pressed up against the desk, and I'm leg to leg against her. “I hate you.” She has the most fuckable mouth I've ever seen.

"The feeling is completely mutual," I say, before I bring my mouth down on hers, crushing her lips against mine.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Katherine



Caulter and I are fucking. I mean, not this very moment, obviously. But we are fucking. In general. That’s our status. Like, if I had to update it on social media, it wouldn’t be one of those “it’s complicated” situations. It would just be “fucking.” That should be a status option, now that I think about it.